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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29262381">Odds 'N Ends</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politely_Spooky/pseuds/SappatisSimpatis'>SappatisSimpatis (Politely_Spooky)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Odds 'N Ends: DSMP Edition [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Animal Instincts, Blaze Hybrid Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Blaze Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), But like?? Not the gross kind, Creeper Hybrid Awesamdude (Video Blogging RPF), Enderman-Ghast Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff, Goat Hybrid Tubbo_ (Video Blogging RPF), Good Dad Philza (Video Blogging RPF), Grooming, Hair Braiding, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Kinda Gross and Annoying That The CCs Real Names Are Part Of Their Character's Tags, Other, Parent Awesamdude (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Badboyhalo (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Awesamdude (Video Blogging RPF), Punz &amp; Sapnap are Siblings, Raccoon Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ram Hybrid Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo Has a Tail (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap Is Bad's Son (Video Blogging RPF), Schlatt's been thru it yall, Semi-Eldritch Dream, They/Them and He/Him Pronouns for Punz, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wing Grooming, Winged Philza Minecraft (Video Blogging RPF), accidental abuse, okay yeah, there is some actual gross Grooming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:09:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29262381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politely_Spooky/pseuds/SappatisSimpatis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a place I can just dump a bunch of headcanons that range anywhere from me being a little sad that people don't utilize certain character designs, to me making Techno bark because I found out that pigs can bark.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, BadBoyHalo/Skeppy, Implied Dream/George/Sapnap</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Odds 'N Ends: DSMP Edition [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>299</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. C!Technoblade Piglin Headcanons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>All of these are just headcanons that I'm doing for fun and that are cross posted from my side Tumblr under the same name.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>C!Technoblade Headcanons:</p><p>
  <span class="small">(I am going to point out that I am solidly saying “<b><em>fuck canon</em></b>” with this, okay?)</span>
</p><ul>
<li>Piglins are a big fucking race, particularly the ones that are closer related to Hoglins, so Techno towers over most of the SMP by a good foot or so.</li>
<li>Philza had a hell of a time trying to keep Techie from absolutely <em>rocking</em> Wilbur’s shit each time the younger man grabbed Techno’s gold earrings</li>
<li>Techno looks mostly like a piglin, but he does have long hair. Like this:</li>
</ul><p>
  
</p><ul>
<li>His tusks, before his retirement, are stained by blood for a few months, but as they naturally grow and he maintains them, the blood stains disappear. <em><span class="small"><strike>which makes it all the worse when hes forced out of retirement</strike></span></em>
</li>
<li>Has learned to keep his Piglin features under wraps, though he still likes to bark and scare the shit outta Tommy or whoever happens to be around when the mischievous thoughts strike.</li>
<li>(Everyone forgets that pigs and piglins can bark, so it shakes everyone to their cores the first time Technoblade lost his hold over his instincts and started barking upon seeing Philza for the first time in a long time. His tail was wagging a little, so they <em>assumed</em> he was being friendly?)</li>
<li>As kids, Wilbur and Tommy would always scratch at Techno’s ears to get him to nudge them and wag his tail. When Philza visited the Nether for the first time since he adopted Techno, he was surprised and amused to find out that the reason the young Piglin was always following him was because that’s how young Piglins learn from their parents.</li>
<li>Ranboo experienced Techno’s Piglin side in a much less pleasant way.</li>
<li>It had been one of the more calm days, and Ranboo was wrestling with a dog from their Hound Army, letting out joking battle cries and mock crying out when the wolf would flop against him.</li>
<li>Philza and his other two sons had been playing with a smaller puppy nearby when they heard a terrifying… roar-bark??? Roark?? And then, less than a second later, Technoblade came charging down the steps like a freight train.</li>
<li>Ranboo snapped upright with wide, terrified eyes yet Philza, and Wilbur smiled lightly, Tommy being the only one to scramble up and mimick the sound as he charged at Techno in response.</li>
<li>Ranboo practically saw <em>Tommy’s</em> life flash before his eyes… and then Techno gently clotheslined Tommy, wrestling him to the ground all while emitting high and low pitched snarls and grunts.</li>
<li>Philz a would later give him a homemade book titled, “<em>How To Figure Out If Technoblade is Actually Gonna Stab You, by Tommy Innit Minecraft and Wilbur Soot Minecraft</em>”.</li>
</ul>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. General Headcanons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is where the Summaries explanation of, "I'm sad these traits aren't written about more" comes in</p><p>If no one is gonna write it, I'll write it my damn self.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Okay but like?? Imagine this, okay, just imagine:</p>
<ul>
<li>Philza and Ranboo walking side by side, Philza (5'11") subtly shielding Ranboo (8'5) with his wing whenever they go into town</li>
<li>Ranboo curling his tail around Tommy’s ankle/wrist in a subconscious attempt to make him sit still (it usually works)</li>
<li>Younger Philza waking up early to bask his wings in the sunlight, only coming back inside when he hears young Techno start barking in worry, unable to find his Dad.</li>
<li>Tubbo bleating whenever he gets excited, Tommy - a raccoon hybrid - making a chattering sound to keep him from getting embarrassed, and Ranboo <b><em>vwoop</em></b><span class="npf_color_chandler">-</span>ing because he doesn’t quite understand why they both made those sounds but wanting to join in</li>
<li>Sam subconsciously walking on eggshells around Antfrost, sometimes just completely leaving the area when he smells the cat approaching. (Bad had to step in and get Sam to confront his instincts.)</li>
<li>Dream - a semi-eldritch entity in my headcanon - dropping his guise to relax against George and Sapnap, emitting a low, almost pulsating sound as various eyes and mouths close and open under their patting hands.</li>
<li>Schlatt teaching Tubbo how to headbutt safely, even allowing the small goat to knock him back a few paces each time they do so (<em>And Tubbo consequently finding out that Schlatt’s been going easy on him when Quackity tries to head-butt the ram, and gets his shit rocked</em>)</li>
<li>Sam - a creeper centaur - getting asked by an excited Tubbo and tsundere-ish Tommy if they can help him brush through his plant-like fur.</li>
<li>Sam, being absolutely thrilled to bond with them like that, let’s them but only if they let him brush out their hair/groom Tommy’s ratnest of a tail.</li>
<li>Tommy’s family sorta invite themselves, and Schlatt also comes around since he’s looking for Tubbo and they all start grooming each other in their respective ways. Techno helps Tommy learn to groom himself with the help of Sam, Schlatt teaches Philza how to help Tubbo file and buffer his horns, while Wilbur alternates between brushing Techno’s mane and preening Philza’s wings.</li>
<li>Ranboo and Tommy linking tails whenever standing idle near one another, Ranboo’s longer and thinner tail sinking into the fluffy thickness of Tommy’s a solid reassurance that they’re still with each other.</li>
<li>(There’s always a chance that they forget that their tails are linked and try to walk in two separate directions… it never goes well for them)</li>
<li>Tommy having to learn how to be a proper hybrid from the others in Dre'sempii, learning how to groom his fur from Tubbo and Ant, figuring out which instincts he has gained with Bad and Sam, and getting used to the dark mask of fur around his somewhat rounder and wider eyes</li>
<li>Sapnap being given things by his fiancees to idly light on fire, Karl passing him spare paper to keep the blaze’s pyromaniac tendencies at bay, Quackity’s asking others in Dre'sempii and El Rapids if they need any plots burned down</li>
<li>Sapnap getting booted from the bed in summer because he runs really fucking warm and his husbands don’t need that shit, GETCHO’ ASS OFF THE BED YOU HOT MOTHERFUCKER</li>
</ul>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Jschlatt and Philza: New Daddy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>JSchlatt is a new father with some ghosts of his own</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The air was filled with the lazy buzzing of cicadas, the squeak of Tubbo's excited bouncing in the backseat, and his soft '<em>mah'-ing</em>.</p><p>Schlatt snickers at a particularly loud bleat when he takes a corner too sharply, flicking a drooping ear in amusement. Tubbo glares accusingly at his father, opening his mouth to yell. . .</p><p>And then he spots their destination and suddenly he's back to loud and excited bleats.</p><p>
  <strike> <em>Smiling softly</em> </strike>
</p><p><em>Smirking</em>, Schlatt slows his car, feeling his smirk melt into a razor sharp grin as Tubbo gets more and more impatient. His leg is involuntarily kicking, and his ears are angled forward, little amber eyes wide open as soft '<em>maah</em>' leaves his mouth.</p><p>Finally realizing that his Dad has been slowing down when he spots some dear running past the car, Tubbo headbutts the back of Schlatt's seat and <em>screams</em>.</p><p>Schlatt can't help but bleat, and slam the gas for a split second.</p><p>Tubbo snickers loudly when the car resumes a normal pace, mischeviously victorious smirk melting into an innocent smile when the much larger ram gives him the stink eye from the rearview mirror. "Hey, not my fault you were being a twat."</p><p>Schlatt squints, barking a harsh laugh soon after. "A twat?" His eyes lift into amused crescents, boxy pupils bright. "Tubbo, son, in this house? In this house we say "bitch", okay buddy?"</p><p>"But we're in a car!"</p><p>"Tubbo, I love you but you keep bein'  smartass, I'll put you out."</p><p>Schlatt puts the car in park, feeling a spark of affection when Tubbo puffs up,  a big smile gracing his features while he proudly proclaims, "You'd never! You love me too much!"</p><p>Chuckling loudly, Schlatt gets out of the small Honda, cracking his back with a small grunt of satisfaction. "Hmm, that <em>could </em>be the reason. . ."</p><p>Huffing, and fumbling with his seat buckle, Tubbo pouts at the ram. "That's mean!"</p><p>Flicking his ear to shoo away a fly, said ram laughed, leaning in to help his son free himself from the stubborn buckle. "You don't even know what I was gonna say!"</p><p>Tubbo simply sticks his tongue out, scrambling out to reach the door where Philza is already patiently waiting. Schlatt watched his son go through half lidded eyes, and a small smirk.<br/>_______</p><p>It was easy to find Tubbo once he was inside with his bags.</p><p>The small hybrid was struggling to find his feet, eeking out frantic and high pitched - <em>almost screaming, really</em> - bleats and "<em>m</em><em>ah's</em>" as he tried to balance his weight evenly on his cloven feet and walk across the linoleum floors of the Minecraft house.</p><p>Watching his son wobble and bleat each time he nearly fell, Schlatt feels only slightly bad for not thinking of getting him a pair of tile walkers. . .</p><p>Only slightly though.</p><p>"Hey, Big T!"</p><p>His red umber eyes slant sharply upwards, boxy pupils enlarging to better watch the human boy run up to his son, trailed by a mildly annoyed looking Piglin. Tommy was his name, the Nether beast being his eldest brother, Techno. The family of 4 had just moved in less than 3 months ago, yet the blonde had become Tubbo's closest friend.</p><p>Close enough that Schlatt had heard his own son slip and call him pack.</p><p>It wasn't too uncommon for hybrid children to find and form packs, but it was uncommon for them to do it so quickly. And with a human at that.</p><p>"Oh, <em>Tommy.</em> Don't do that!" Philza's sudden voice startles Schlatt into standing a little straighter, his wispy tail flicking in an old nervous habit he hadn't quite managed to shake. It lost him quite a few poker games before. Philza sounds mildly amused, but exasperated and Schlatt wonders what he may have missed in his 3 seconds of spacing out.</p><p>Trying to see what the little tyrant is doing to warrant that reaction proves to be an easier task than he expected. Especially when Philza's massive sandy wings are calling attention in his direction, the avian squinting disapprovingly downwards at an unrepentant Tommy.</p><p>Cocking an eyebrow and leaning against the countertop behind him, Schlatt drawls, "What'd the lil' fucker do now?"</p><p>"Watch your mouth," Philza hums, wings flicking idly as they fold back into his back. "And he was pulling on Tubbo too much. Poor thing was sliding across the floor, could hardly get his legs under himself." Apparently bored with this lackluster scolding, Tommy grabs Tubbo's wrist, pulling him onto the carpeted floor of the living room. Tubbo follows, fumbling across the kitchen, but happily picking up speed once they hit the living room.</p><p>Technoblade stays behind, shuffling and scuffing his wrapped hoofs against the ground as a few unreadable expressions cross his face. Philza smiles lightly, turning to fully face the unsurprisingly large Piglin teen. "Yes, Techie? Is something wrong?"</p><p>Techno's ears pin back, clawed hands playing anxiously with his fur and mane. He's breathing softly through his mouth, and after a moment, he turns his weary golden eyes on Schlatt. "Why. . ."</p><p>The ram flicks an ear, sharpened teeth showing in a small, almost taunting smirk. When Techno doesn't speak again, Schlatt hums, "<em>'Why?'</em>" tapping a single black, clawed finger against the counter. Techno shrinks further into his shoulders, mane and fur sticking up comically from the bashful display.</p><p>"Why doesn't he. . ." Techno pauses, words fumbling in his mouth for a moment. Seeming at a loss, and too flustered to properly speak in Overworld, the Piglin grunts helplessly at Philza.</p><p>Schlatt watches the feathers behind the Avians ears flare, flicking here and there as his mind works to translate the soft squeals and barks. "Are you asking why Tubbo doesn't have a pair of tile walkers?"</p><p>He nods, turning his eyes back to Schlatt for only a moment.</p><p>Philza also casts him a curious look, and suddenly the adult ram is back in his childhood home, struggling to walk across the polished wooden floors as his mother laughs, nudging his hooves each time he finally manages to right himself.</p><p>Flicking a dismissive ear, at both the memory and the question, he hums, "I dunno. Guess the problem never came up."</p><p>"I find that hard to believe, J. Schlatt." Philza's voice is unnecessarily sharp, tinged with both disappointment and worry. "You have a kitchen too, and I doubt it has carpeted tiles."</p><p>Schlatt snorts, stepping purposefully onto the linoleum tiles of the kitchen. Both Technoblade and Philza lurch forward, ready to steady him, faltering when they realize how sure footed he seems. "As I said; the problem never really came up. Tubbo stays outta the kitchen, and I have mats on the bathroom floor so he usually doesn't walk on tiles."</p><p>Philza seems really concerned, ash blond wings fluttering anxiously behind his back. "Mate. . . you. . . you <em>do</em> know that's classified as hybrid specific abuse right?"</p><p>Schlatt freezes.</p><p>His eyes flick over to towards where the two youngest boys had vanished to, and he whispers, "Wh. . ."</p><p>Technoblade frowns and opens his mouth a small amount, flashing weary glances at Philza.</p><p>Glancing at Schlatt, Philza shakes his head and motions back into the living room, to they can all hear the faint sounds of Tubbo cheerfully greeting a newly awakened Wilbur. Nodding back, the Piglin casts another weary look at J. Schlatt, then leaves.</p><p>Philza waits for a long moment, turning around to make sure his eldest has actually left which gives Schlatt the opportunity to lean heavily against the counter tops, ears pinned back.</p><p>It was only the soft tapping of Philza's claws against the counter top that pulled him out of his rushing thoughts, the first and foremost of them being blurted out without tact, "Have. . . Have I really been <em>hurting</em> Tubbo this whole time?"</p><p>The avian's feathers ruffled, fluffing just slightly and his head cocks, blond hair falling into his gray green eyes. "You seem. . . surprised by that?"</p><p>A bitter laugh pulled itself from his throat, rough and much quieter than his usual maniacal laughter. "Fuck yeah I'm. . . I didn't. . ." Schlatt's claws grasped uselessly at nothing, curling into open fists before he reached up to start pulling at the curling point of his horns.</p><p>Philza coos without thought, mumbling for him to not do that but Schlatt simply sobs. "Phil, I didn't mean to hurt 'im. It was, I. . ."</p><p>Ash blond wings slowly reach out to him, and Philza steps forward as well, curling his arms around Schlatt's back to pull him against his chest. The ram goes stiff, starting to pull away until Philza gently rubs his shoulder, murmuring, "I know mate." The avians breath catches when he feels Schlatt become nearly dead weight against him, shoulders shuddering as he starts to sob harder. Pin pricks of tickling pain along his sides notify him of the ram hybrid's claws digging into his shirt. Philza allows him to cry until he can feel the tears stains clear down to his navel, and when Schlatt bleats a small apology, he simply ruffles his wings again.</p><p>"It's okay, but I do have to ask: why did you. . . why are. . ."</p><p>" 'Why did I not realize I was hurting Tubbo?' " Philza winces at the blunt delivery, but nods nonetheless. Schlatt sighs, motioning for them to move this into the living room. Before Philza can ask, the ram mutters bitterly, "It's because my legs are getting sore from keeping my balance on this shit."</p><p>Dull green eyes widen slightly, flicking down to take in the shaky way Schlatt stands, trying to keep his weight centered.</p><p>"Right, mate. You. . . yeah. . ."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>PLEASE LOOK AT THE UPDATED TAGS!</p><p>TW: Referenced Grooming, Referenced Rape - because Schlatt was a literal fucking child and thus, can't consent -  and Child Abuse.</p><p>Please be careful, and if you're uncomfortable, sont read this chapter please</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Philza carefully pulls his chair in, tucking the ends of his wings into the spacious, specialized wing slits at the back of his chair.</p><p>Schlatt pulls out the one he assumes is Techno's: the chair sloped like a lower case "h" to support the higher heels of his feet. It's small, much smaller than what he'd expect for a Piglin that is probably going to reach a height of 7 feet when he fully matures and his bubblegum pink fur fades to a tan-pink colour.</p><p>The 3 taps of Philza's claws against the table pull him from his musings, and he idly watches the wickedly sharp talons just barely dent the table, flicking an ear to show he was paying attention. "You doin' alright, mate?</p><p>Schlatt tilts his head back towards the avian, a humourless laugh spilling from between his sharpened teeth. Leveling his gaze at Philza, he makes a sarcastic motion at himself, baring his teeth as he spits, "Yeah, just peachy Phil. I mean, it's not like I <em>just</em> learned that I've been systematically <em>abusing my son</em> without realizing it or anything. . ."</p><p>The slightly shorter man flinches, the feathers behind his slightly pointed ears flattening to his skull. "Schlatt. . ." The avian's voice is sickeningly soft, spoken as if he were scared of sending J. Schlatt running.</p><p>After moment of silently scrutinizing him, Philza leans back against his seat again, wings shuffling from were they are settled. Schlatt doesn't look back up at him, ears drooped as he starts rubbing a tired hand across his face. Seeming to understand the nonverbal cues, the blond avian sighs shortly, "Schlatt. . . I may be crossing a line here but. . . how could you not know, mate?"</p><p>One brown ear flicks, the soft, white interior fur vanishing when it fold back and away from the sound of Philza's voice.</p><p>Philza flicks a wing, patient and relaxed.</p><p>After several long moments of pure, almost contemplative silence, the older hybrid begins to slump backwards, ready to accept this prolonged silence as Schlatt's refusal to speak. . . That is until J. Schlatt shifts his head just slightly, keeping his face buried in his palm.</p><p>". . . It was how <em>I </em>grew up."</p><p>A bolt of horror, and something akin to disgust wells up in Philza's stomach, reflected in the startled fluffing of his feathers. "<em>What</em>. . ?" The ram shifts again so that one of his eyes is barely visible, hidden just slightly behind the curl of a horn, and the avian searches it, mentally <em>begging</em> him to be lying with wide gray-green eyes because no parent within their right minds would ever risk the possibility of permanent muscle damage with their child.</p><p>The way Schlatt's mouth twists up into a dry, humourless smile brings bile into his throat.</p><p>"Mate that's. . . that's <em>awful</em>. Who would. . . <em>why</em> would. . ." Schlatt barks another laugh, and Philza quite suddenly <em>regrets </em>asking.</p><p>"Why? Because she decided that I was Prime's punishment." Philza's feathers fluff against his will, a part of him - the buried, deeply religious part that he had abandoned long ago - yells and rants that their Lord, Prime, doesn't punish, only gifts. He doesn't hide the small twist of his mouth though, and Schlatt seems to see it in that split second because he shakes his head. "That's right. . . Dear old <em>Mom</em> wasn't exactly someone who followed her religion very closely. Because, you know how Prime forbids heavy drinking? Like, blackout drinking?"</p><p>A few pieces connect, and Schlatt can't exactly say he likes the look on Philza's face when they do. Covering up his souring mood with a leering grin, Schlatt points up at his wine coloured horns, sharp teeth bared. "There's an old wive tale among us ram and sheep: 'Whatever your ewe drank the most of, that's the colour your lamb's wool or horns would show .' Or, better known as '1 week drink, 9 month tell'."</p><p>Philza shifts, then asks wearily, a part of him begging not to hear the answer yet unsure of what exactly he wanted to hear, "But, <em>was</em> she a digitigrade? She would have surely known. . ."</p><p>The ram shrugs in a noncommittal fashion, ears flicking idly. "Nah. She was a human through and through, and got knocked up in one of her blackouts by some lucky ram who skipped town the night after." He leans back in his seat, eyes shifted towards the ceiling. "I never though much of it; was always taught that he was a good for nothin'. A bum."</p><p>Philza swallows carefully.</p><p>This. . . This was awful. . .</p><p>He hears Wilbur snip something at someone, followed closely by Tommy's uproarious laughing and a loud squeal from Techno. Schlatt shifts in his seat at the sound, and suddenly something that Wilbur said a month ago hits him. "Schlatt?"</p><p>"Mm?"</p><p>Hands shaking, Philza weakly whispers, "Schlatt. . . How. . . How old <em>are</em> you?"</p><p>The ram goes quiet, and Philza feels like he's going to faint. His wings pull themselves from the chair, fluffing as if to defend him from sometjung while his eyes dart up to Schlatt's curled horns, silently mouthing as he counts the connecting rings of keratin growth, and gagging.</p><p>18.</p><p>The next room over also went quiet, and Philza couldn't hear the kids creep closer through tbe blood rushing in his ears.</p><p>Those 18 little rings that indicated his age told a disgusting story. His age was made even more prominent when the avian realized that the forward curl of them stoped just before his ears, looking like the neat backwards facing curve of a goat rather than the tightly coiled spiral of a ram.</p><p>
  <em>Four sets of eyes peeked in, a brown pair going wide in realization.</em>
</p><p>Wilbur was merely <em>19</em>, with a <em>3 month</em> old baby.</p><p>
  <em>Golden eyes followed suit, snapping between a curious set of horizontal pupils and a bright set of blue.</em>
</p><p>Schlatt was <em>eighteen</em>, with a <em>5 year</em> old son.</p><p>
  <em>The horizontal pupils are shoved against a yellow sweater, and the golden set subtly shift toward, hiding the blue set from sight.</em>
</p><p>Suddenly Philza is even sicker than he was before, springing to his feet in a flurry of flared wings, and puffed feathers. Distress leaks from every pore of his body, and Tommy cries out when they hear Philza retch into the sink, Wilbur hesitating before going over to smooth a hand down his back.</p><p>Schlatt watches blankly, ear barely twitching when Tubbo walks up to him. "D-Daddy?"</p><p>"Yeah, son?"</p><p>Tubbo shrinks, ears flat. "Are. . . Is Philza gonna hit you now?"</p><p>Whatever breath Philza had managed to suck down immediately vanishes in a sobbing cry. Tommy keens loudly, unsure why everyone is so agitated and hating it. His older brother, Techno, seems to be in the same boat, torn between helping his father, soothing Tommy, or dragging Tubbo over to soothe him as well.</p><p>Pulling himself away from the sink, Philza reaches out with shaking hands and Tubbo <em>bleats</em>, eyes locked on his talons and sending more and more shockwaves of horror and digust crawling up the avian's spine. By contrast, Schlatt immediately collapses into his outstretched arms, sobbing into the soft green fabric on his chest and <em>wailing</em> out his agony.</p><p>Philza cries with him, numb and mute.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>- Tubbo asked if Philza was gonna hit Schlatt because he remembers when Schlatt's Mom would start puking after a drinking bout, only to immediately begin hitting Schlatt.<br/>- The "Schlatt being 15 when he had a kid" is partially based off the story of a 10 year old being raped by his nanny/babysitter who had his kid and went to prison for it. I thought it explained why he could be the same age as Wilbur, but have a kid that's Tommy's age.<br/>- The ring of the horns thing was made up by me, and based off of a rattlesnake's rattle.</p><p>- The religion of Prime is sorta like Christianity and based off the Prime Church. Prime is like Jesus, Notch is Satan, and a few either terms I'll get into in later chapters.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dream Team Hybrid Headcanons</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b><em>George</em></b> - I'm gonna draw it someday, but I hc that George is a mushroom person, kind of like a mooshroom but human. He was raised in a dark forest/mushroom forest mixed biome by a colony of mushroom people, and since fungi thrive in really dark, damp places, whenever it's daylight, he wears the shades.</p><p>It also sorta plays into the other idea I have. So, the mushroom people's biology is really flexible when they're young, but gets more rigid as they age. That means if you were born - seeded - in a dark place and grow up there, <em>that</em> is what your vision has adjusted to. You'll be basically a bat in daylight, and vice versa.</p><p>George is colorblind because he made the mistake of going into the sunlight and looking up, effectively frying his red-green colour cones.</p><p>Him being a mushroom also explains his constant sleeping, always exhausted because he's not used to the amount of energy he has to output to keep up with Sapnap and Dream.</p><p><b><em>Sapnap</em></b> - Duh, he's a Blaze Hybrid.</p><p>But for real: Sapnap is constantly aggressive and ready to fight, because he's always making more energy than his body - the human half - can handle. So he's always looking for an outlet. It's like drinking a bunch of coffee, and running in circles to get rid of the ensuing jitters and shakes.</p><p>But, because Sapnap grew up away from other Blazes, he's never been quite sure how much he needs to burn/destroy for his energy levels to even out, so he tends to go overboard resulting in low energy, to which he simply consumes more, forcefully sticking Sap in a constant cycle of "Destroy, Refuel, Destroy".</p><p>Should he ever be killed with nothing in his inventory, Sapnap tends to drop blaze powder rather than blaze rods.</p><p>And the reason Sap is able to seamlessly fit into a polygamous relationship with Karl and Quackity is because most Blaze - and by proxy, their offspring - aren't usually monogamous.</p><p>With Blaze, platonic attraction is usually shown in rough interactions, friendly fire bouts, and body slams.</p><p>Romantic attraction, or mating displays, are shown through flaring of one's fire*, displays of strength/bravery, and nearly suffocating hovering.</p><p><em><b>Dream</b></em> - He's a part of the lesser god, Ex'deeah, that had become sentient.</p><p>He sorta just. . . woke up one day, fully formed in the middle of a field. Dream's appearance - <em>a giant, void black creature that had no discernable features and glowing, radioactive green eyes sprouting up everywhere eyes weren't supposed to be</em> - is actually what had drawn Goergo out of his forest, and into the painful sunlight.</p><p>Dream felt responsible, so he started watching out for the mushroom man, the constant feeling of family and possessiveness eventually leaking over into Ex'deeah, resulting in the divine creature developing a similar protective obsession.</p><p>Sapnap and George both gift him his mask together, and Dream becomes unreasonably attached to it. He likes the crudely done smiley  so much that it actually etches itself into his actual face, creating an eerie, uncanny grin that stretches the width of his maw.</p><p>He's still learning about his own abilities and limits as an eldritch creature.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>O should mention that the Dream/George thing can be read as either platonic or romantic.</p><p>I, personally, don't like to ship DNF, but I know that my writing an lean towards being snippy because I'm on the ace spectrum and tend to forget what can be seen as "couple"-like</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. First Meetings: Dream Team</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dream crashes from the heavens, and George pays for his clans fears.</p><p>(Sapnap is just a teen trying to burn out some energy man, he didn't mean to adopt both a Caver *and* a pseudo-deity)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Quiet... What's quiet?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noise? Is that quiet too? No, not quite quiet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hum. Buzz, flashing flashing pulsing, something bad.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Agony hurt hurt stop it NO STOP IT HURT </b>
  </em>
  <em>
    <b>NONONONONON</b>
  </em>
  <em>
    <b>-</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fast hurt, hard. What's hard? Bright bri-</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Movement!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Brown and soft and quiet, and gone left flash gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>More brown, dark brown stops moving, dark twinkle, back in not hurt place?</em>
</p><hr/><p>The screaming of the clan was loud and panicked, freshly seeded young ones dragged farther into the caves, the bravest of their adults all rushing towards the mouth of their home.</p><p>George keeps a hold of his newest sibling, the sporling having been shoved into his arms by their bearer when she ran by to help defend their home from whatever that deafening boom had been. The crowd is a stampede of footsteps, and glowing colours and yelling between troops, and George finds himself grateful that the small, shiny blue mushrooms growing along the back of his body seem to fascinate the sporling into staying mostly calm.</p><p>He struggles to find his troop around the whimpering bodies streaming past in an almost endless wave. Becoming more frustrated, he reaches out with his mycelium, mentally begging any other mushroom to help.</p><p>To his relief, his mycelium makes contact with the mycelium of someone from the child's troop. She's a female and seems relieved to know that he has the sporling. George sends a quick pulse of curiosity and impatience towards her, trying to express his anxious need to help those that are heading towards the cave mouth to check for intruders. She sends back an apologetic wave, as well as a vague feeling that guides him to the outer edge of the now still but tense clan. He looks around, the sporling's the rounded red-orange, white speckled cap giving him an idea of what kind of troop he may be looking for.</p><p>His eyes flick about, eventually spotting a wide, flat cap of red and white. It's sprouting out of the head of a tall female mushroom, surrounded by her troop of red capped poisonous mushrooms. Hoping it was her that he was connected to, George sends her small pulse of impatience. Her face twitches into an annoyed look, seconds before she looks up and lights up spotting them approaching. The sexless sporling in George's arms begins wiggling happily when they're passed off, nuzzling their face against the gilled underside of her wide brimmed cap. She does the same to the top of his, sending a small rush of relieved chemicals and nutrients into George as a reward for his help.</p><p>He graciously accepts the offering, detaching himself from her to summon his short-sword and race towards the mouth of their home.</p><p>George is left alone as he charges carelessly on, others recognizing him as the lone pixie's parasol that often travelled in a troop of indigo milk caps. George dodged around a stalagmite, slowing down just behind an orange fly agaric. Curious as to why they aren't attacking an outsider, the parasol let's his mycelium extend again, attaching themselves to the mycelium of the earlier guards.</p><p>They're anxious.</p><p>The oldest, another agaric with a cap that was more white than red, paces before the entrance, their mycelia pulsing anxiously. Casting a weary glance about the group, George carefully sends a small questioning pulse, getting hit with a multitude of '<em>hot hot bright hot</em>' before the elder stops pacing to face them all, their eyes still blank.</p><p>His eyes meet George's, mycelium tightening around his. <em>'Scout</em>'</p><p>George tenses, and the rest of the group immediately releases him, looking anywhere else but his widened eyes. Tightening his grasp in return, he sends back, '<em>Young, small, young small soft</em>'</p><p>The elder's facial muscles twitch, eyes thinning as he sends back a much stronger wave. '<em>S c o u t</em>'</p><p>Clenching his jaw, George maintains eye contact, vaguely aware of the rest of the group watching the two of them with weary eyes. The Elder narrows his eyes, another older, sexless mushroom takes a slow step forward, and the younger mushroom can feel several others flank his back. Forcing his grinding teeth to relax, George bows his head, bowl shaped mushroom cap slipping down his forehead to gently cover his eyes. '<em>Scout...</em>' George begrudgingly agrees, the pixie subtly shaking as a pair of blacked out sunglasses are shoved into his hands, the white rims nearly glowing in the dark.</p><p>He's given small amounts of nutrients from the others via mycelium, food and farewells being pulsed out as the blue pixie marches towards the bright, burning yet waning sunlight.</p><p>George hesitates, glances back, and steps out of the caves for the first time in his life.</p><hr/><p>It's scary out here, he decides some time later, watching a spider jockey chase down a zombie and shoot it dead with one shot. The strange skeleton and spider duo stood proud over their kill for only a moment, before spotting a Stray sitting beneath a tree.</p><p>George decided not to stick around after seeing the Stray mercilessly brutalize the large spider, lunging for its rider no less than a second later.</p><p>The pixie's parasol had been out and about for just about 2 hours now, yet was getting increasingly agitated. He was tired and weary, and with each tree he climbed and each hill he crested, George found himself only seeing evidence of the usual mobs: Skeletons, creepers and zombies, with an occasional Enderman milling about with a grass block clenched between its clawed fingers, and plenty of sheep and pigs.</p><p>The young shroom tipped his head upwards, allowing his cap to fall from his head and hang freely behind him, pressed lightly into his back. The twine holding it digs into his throat, but George is incredibly used to the sensation at this point; relaxes into it, really. Twinkling lights flashes back at him in the cave roof - no, no, the elders said it was called a "<em>sky</em>", and the flashing lights weren't glow worm larva, but rather little specks called "<em>stars</em>".</p><p>George admires it for a moment, then scans the darkness around him with a similar sort of interest - <em>night-time, as the elders called it, the best time for a cave mushroom to be out</em><em> and about</em> - as the cave like lighting had eclipsed him quite quickly, filling the too bright sky with those small, blinking lights - with <em>stars</em> - that made him feel monitored and stalked, sending a small itch across his mushroom covered shoulders.</p><p>Sighing again, George dodged around a group of shambling zombies, halfheartedly slashing at one when they meandered too close for his liking.</p><p>He was <em>tired</em>, and <em>bored.</em></p><p>Sighing again, George nudged aside a large, rounded... Thing. A bush? Was that what it was?</p><p>Regardless, he shoved it aside, stepping through the small gap he created. His almost completely bare feet step lightly, making sure to keep his steps light. Also keeping an eye on his surroundings, George reaches up to his neck with one hand, carefully adjusting his sunblocking glasses and reassuring himself that they were still hooked into his shirt.</p><p>To be caught in the sun without it would be... Painful.</p><p>George shudders, remembering the memories and stories the others had told him before: Of Cavers stumbling around blind and blistered beneath the sunlight, falling to their deaths, or left screaming beneath the Sun's rays, killed mercilessly by the mindless mobs that were attracted to the sounds of agony.</p><p>A twig snaps under his foot, and a rattling hiss echoes through the air.</p><p>Freezing, George whips his head up, locking onto... "What the <em>fuck</em>?" He breathes, hands falling to his sides and mouth hanging open. While the young mushroom isn't <em>quite</em> sure what he's looking at, he is sure that it was the thing making the hissing noise from earlier.</p><p>The mass is almost hard to describe, looking like black fog given a vague shape to adhere to, wafting and writhing around itself. George jolts a little when he realizes that it's coiled up in the bottom of a crater, small burnt patches showing that it had landed pretty fucking hard.</p><p>Taking a weary step forward, he pauses when the mass writhes harder, then suddenly an acidic green eye forms to stare at him. George goes still under its bleary gaze, taking note of the way it flicks over to take in the mushrooms that grow over his shoulders, then flicking up to stare at his hair.</p><p>Its writhes, twisting into a more humanoid shape, but collapses back into a shapeless mass of black.</p><p>Struggling within himself, George finally succumbs to the urge to step closer...</p><p>Then he reels back, yowling at the sudden explosion of light that bursts to life at his feet. His hands come up to block out the light, hands fumbling with his glasses a second too late as another ball bursts to life at his feet. It sears his vision and sends him crashing to the ground in a pile of clothes and limbs and mushrooms that snap painfully at the stems.</p><p>He's screaming he distantly notes, and warm a hand is pressing against his shoulders, the other pushing his face into a soft chest that smells of smoke and sweat and something metallic that burns his nostrils. Regardless, George curls into them, pressing farther into the soothing darkness that their figure provides for him.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>Movement!! Movement movement movement, moving blue pretty glow blue</em>
  <em> stop?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Blue stop stare pretty stare startle red</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Angry red, bright p</em>
  <em>retty blue move, black white not quiet?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>TOO NOT QUIET NOT QUIET NOT QUIET</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Brown blue run run red white black blue run fast move run move? He??</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who he??</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'Pop</b>
  </em>
  <em>'</em>
</p><p>The creature shuddered quietly, startled by the sudden feeling of... <em>Something</em> that surged through it, and while it wasn't <em>quite</em> sure what had just happened, it was sure that the... The <em>not-quiet</em> was making it incredibly upset; making its thoughts scatter in many different directions, much like the small not-quiets that were scattering at the presence of the medium not-quiet.</p><p>The medium not-quiet makes a sound, high pitched and shrill, the noise wrenched from his throat in a cascading display of colours and spirals that made the creature hiss and trill. The not-quiet simply made louder sounds, reaching near violent pitches and the creature snaps it's gaze back in their direction, claws digging into the dirt as a rattling hiss boils up in it body...</p><p>And then leaves it in a silent whoosh.</p><p>The not-quiet is the pretty blue, and is leaning against the angry-red, still being not quiet and making those awful sounds. Yet the creature can't help but croon, and wiggle it's way towards them.</p><p>Angry-red hisses at him, one touching appendage lighting up with a red-orange-yellow flickering glow and the creature simply pushes past him, wrapping them both in his misting body.</p><p>Words and knowledge and sensations flood his body, mind steadily wrapping around it all and soaking it all in. The angry-red - Sapnap, as his newly acquired memories deem him - jerks again, lighting his hand on fire, curling tighter around the pretty-blue - George.</p><p>Releasing them from the cold confines of his grasp, the creature molds himself into an actual form, visibly startling Sapnap who stares at him with pointed ears pressed back.</p><p>Reaching out with a clawed hand, the creature gurgles weakly, "D-Dreeam... Hel-Helllpp."</p><hr/><p>There weren't a lot of things Sapnap had expected out of this excursion.</p><p>He had <em>expected</em> to go out and burn some mobs to a crisp.</p><p>He had expected to burn down a village or two - despite how much his Dads and Punz complained that it messed with their trade, they also understood that Sap needed to let out that energy.</p><p>Hell, he had even anticipated running into a wandering mushroom person - although the fact that it was a Caver and not an Over was surprising.</p><p>Yet, out of all of that, Sapnap had not expected to not only seriously injure a Caver in a panic shot that missed its intended target, but also run into some weird, mist like entity that called itself Dream and could hardly hold its own form together.</p><p>But that's exactly where he found himself; with a now blind Caver thrown over his shoulders, and an eldritch abomination trailing several feet behind him, incapable of holding a solid shape for more than two minutes.</p><p>The Caver winces when they stumble over a root, and Dream makes a breathy <em>whoosh</em>-ing from behind them. A part of Sapnap wants to liken the sound to a sound his own father makes, but Bad tends to "rattle" the noise when he's concerned rather than just let it puff out of him. He still turns to look at it though, met with bright green eyes and a jagged lime coloured mouth stretching across the vague area of its face.</p><p>"He's, uh... He's fine y'know. My Dad can, like, fix him and shit." Dream clicks dismissively - <em>another sound that reminds Sapnap of his Dad</em> - but the mouth sinks back into his body and the eyes all fade so... He guessed that means the creature is relaxed?</p><p>Flicking a pointed ear, Sapnap pulls the Caver's arm tighter over his shoulder, using his free hand to pull out his communicator.</p><p>Dad and Pa were gonna want to be warned about this.</p><hr/><p>Punz roughly shoved open the front door to the SkepHalo household, a displeased frown across their face and their communicator held in a clenched fist. Looking up from his spot in the kitchen, Bad smiles softly at his youngest child, though it fades when he sees the sour look on his face.</p><p>"Punz? Are feeling okay?" Bad croons, tail curling around the high arch of his foot. He sets down the knife in his hand, skinned potato also being set aside as he steps around the kitchen island. Skeppy, in his smaller, two foot tall form, immediately shifts back into his regular height, blue eyes locked on their son who storms over to hug Bad around his waist. "Oh!" Bad squeaks, wings flaring for a moment before closing forward, wrapping around Punz as well. "Okay, uhm... Punzy, will you please answer my question?"</p><p>Without pulling away from where he's pressed against Bad's belly, Punz grumbles, "Sap said he's coming home with something, but won't tell me what. He knows I hate surprises."</p><p>Skeppy relaxes back into his seat, a laugh ripped from his throat. "I'm sure it's nothing, dude! You know Sappy always brings back cool shit anyway!"</p><p>"<em>Language</em>!" Skeppy ducks his head, snickering under Bad's glare. Huffing at his husband's remorseless sniggering, the demon gently picks up Punz beneath his armpits, tucking the teen back onto his hip as if they were a toddler again, much to their loudly voiced embarrassment. "Oh hush Punz. Listen to me," Careful of his horns, Bad pushes his forehead to his son's, smiling softly. "Sapnap knows better than to bring back something that could freak you out, okay? Let's just trust that he-"</p><p>"DAD!" Bad snaps upright, cutting himself off with a choked gasp. Skeppy, who had been carelessly leaning back in his seat, crashes to the ground with a loud yelp, quickly sitting up to stare at the door.</p><p>"Sapnap?" Bad squawks, wings unwrapping. His tail thrashes helplessly when the only response he gets his a weak groan and frustrated yelp. "<em>S-Sapnap</em>!?" Gently setting down his youngest, Bad races to the door, wrenching it open with a racing heart.</p><p>The sight that greets him is... Unexpected, to say the least.</p><p>There's his adopted son, Sapnap, who's clothes are coated in ash - normal - and blood - not so normal. His hair is wild, his prized bandana missing from its spot on his forehead, his pointed ears angled down like he's anticipating a lecture. Yet Bad can't find it in himself to scold the older teen; distracted by the mushroom covered person with a supporting arm thrown across his son's shoulders.</p><p>It's a Caver type mushroom person, the slight bioluminesence of the mushrooms growing along his shoulders, and even some parts of his skin are proof of that. He has a large, umbrella shaped blue mushroom cap hanging behind his back, and his son's bandana is wrapped around his eyes, ash clinging to his clothes. He seems young, and there's a pair of partially melted glasses held tightly in one of his hands, the white frames standing out harshly in the dark night.</p><p>The biggest surprise to the demon is the pseudo-deity standing a few feet behind them, collapsing and reforming again and again. It's eyes are locked on Bad, a mouth appearing to anxiously curl into snarl, though he's surprised to note that it seems more experimental that genuinely threatening.</p><p>His attention is drawn back into Sapnap when he weakly mutters, "<em>Surprise, Dad?</em>"</p>
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